In Fields of White
by LilTinyBee
Summary: A walk past Malfoy Manor stirs up memories of the war and a hopeful Slytherin within its wall. DMHG. One-shot, complete.


Originally written for the DMHGFicExchange on LJ. Posted Dec 2007. This is a one-shot only.

**Disclaimer:** It all belongs to JKR. Contains excerpts from Deathly Hallows. No copyright infringement is intended.

**A/N:** Post-war, alternate ending for DH-- loosely structured around canon events. Contains excerpts from DH. Character deaths. Flashbacks in italics.

(Thanks to RoseGrrl for beta-ing)

* * *

He doesn't let me in anymore.

I stand at the tall, iron gates bordering the expansive grounds of the estate. Much of the perimeter fence has been broken down into bits of twisted metal. Some of the gargoyles guarding the turret-looking structures of the old Manor have fallen and their shattered, stony corpses lay untouched on the walk. The once-manicured gardens are now brown and withered and the only things that grow are the tentacle-like weeds which don't seem to need much sun. Good for them. Good, since there isn't much sunshine around this particular lot of real estate anyway.

I was once free to come and go from the Manor. I'd become his friend, his confidant. I had hoped to become more, but it was not to be. Now, the house-elves are not even permitted to come to the door to greet me. I've banged my fists and kicked the great, black doors, but it doesn't make any difference. He's warded the Manor and sealed himself inside. He is alone with his despair and his hope.

Even after so many years, the details of how it all came to this are still fresh in my mind. That, perhaps, is more of a curse than a blessing. I long for my mind to grow weary from remembering such sorrow. I thought the mind would be kinder to the heart and begin to expunge little bits of information every now and again so that you would have no choice but to forget. Such is the purpose of a pensieve. It remembers for you in case you forget or in case you _want_ to forget .

It was the beginning of the end for us the day I chose to use his pensieve. It was without his permission and I know he would never have given it. But, I had to know. I had to understand. I had to see for my own eyes and, Merlin help me, I did. In that swirling myriad of memories, I came to realize exactly what I meant to him. _Nothing_.

-=-=-=-=-=-

_'Dobby!' she screamed, and even Bellatrix froze. 'You! You dropped the chandelier -?'_

_The tiny elf trotted into the room, his shaking fingers pointing at his old mistress._

_'You must not hurt Harry Potter,' he squeaked._

_'Kill him, Cissy!' shrieked Bellatrix, but there was another loud crack, and Narcissa's wand, too, flew into the air and landed on the other side of the room._

_'You dirty little monkey!' bawled Bellatrix, 'How dare you take a witch's wand, how dare you defy your masters?'_

_'Dobby has no master!' squealed the elf. 'Dobby is a free elf, and Dobby has come to save Harry Potter and his friends!'_

_Harry's scar was blinding him with pain. Dimly, he knew that they had moments, seconds before Voldemort was with them._

_'Ron, catch- and GO!' he yelled, throwing one of the wands to him; then he bent down to tug Griphook out from under the chandelier. Hoisting the groaning goblin, who still clung to the sword, over his shoulder, Harry seized Dobby's hand and he spun on the spot to Disapparate._

_As he turned into darkness, he caught one last view of the drawing room; of the pale, haunted look of Narcissa as she grasped and hurled something large towards him that nearly knocked him off his feet, of the streak of red that was Ron's hair, and a blur of flying silver, as Bellatrix's knife flew across the room at the place where he was vanishing--_

_They were still yelling- at him, at the loss of his former house-elf, Dobby. He didn't know how to feel. His mother had saved him and she and his father were very likely dead even as he stood unsure of what to do inside the small cottage. Voldemort would have arrived and Bellatrix would have told him everything not leaving out a single detail._

_A moment later, Draco was doubling over in agony and had scarcely a second to draw a breath when he felt angry blows painfully raining down upon him._

_'You bastard!' Harry bellowed as he allowed his rage consumed him. 'You bloody coward! Your Mum thinks you're safe now, does she? I'll kill you! I'll fucking kill you!'_

_'Stop eet, 'Arry,' Fleur yelled. ''E eez not fighting back. Bill!'_

_Bill was standing in the doorway watching as Harry's fists flew at Draco's rapidly bruising face. The Slytherin's nose was already broken and a frightening amount of blood was flowing from both his nose and mouth._

_'Dumbledore is dead because of you! You and fucking Severus Snape!' Harry grabbed a handful of Draco's fine blond hair and shook him mercilessly._

_Hearing Harry's enraged screams, Ron ran into the kitchen leaving Hermione to rest on the living room sofa._

_'Harry! Stop, he isn't worth it,' Ron tried to stop his friend before he went too far, but Harry threw him off and started to kick the Slytherin. 'Bill, help me!'_

_The elder Weasley stumbled forward. A part of him felt some grim satisfaction in seeing someone outside of the Order suffering._

_'Harry, that's enough,' Bill told him in a grave tone as he helped his brother to restrain his best friend. 'No more,'_

_Suddenly exhausted, Harry allowed Bill and Ron to pull him backwards. There was an odd moment of silence before they heard it- after the ringing in their ears had faded from all the shouting. Draco lay curled in a defensive posture at their feet. Even though his eyes were horribly swelled and puffy, they could see tears beginning to leave streaks through the blood covering his ruined face._

_'My Mum,' he murmured desperately. 'Oh, my Mum…'_

-=-=-=-=-=-

Narcissa had attempted to save him knowing that their family had been disgraced and was no longer useful to Voldemort. Once more their attempts to return to favor with their Lord had failed miserably. Draco would have been made a quick example. But, what was to become of him? He was flung out of the pan and into the fire without warning or a wand.

It was not the kindness of strangers he had to rely upon, but the very souls he had tormented throughout his years at Hogwarts. What could have been expected?

-=-=-=-=-=-

_A number of weeks had passed since their arrival and departure at Shell Cottage. They had mulled over it for a while, but brought Draco with them when they finally left. The culmination of their efforts was nearly upon them and neither they nor the Order knew what to do with him. In truth, he wasn't much of a threat and they did not have the time or the motivation to deal with him._

_Hermione had stolen a few moments here and there to heal Draco's injuries when he appeared to be sleeping. She never approached him when he was awake. He seemed resigned to die in whatever corner he was left in. But, it wasn't in her to simply leave him to waste away. No matter what had happened, she would never forget the reluctance in his voice when he had been asked repeatedly to identify her at Malfoy Manor._

_'Why do you even bother?' he said tiredly without opening his eyes as Hermione began another spell to repair has nose. She gasped surprisedly thinking that, once again, he had been asleep._

_'Because,' she took a breath to recover and then continued her work. 'Everyone deserves a second chance,'_

_'Not me,' he whispered. 'I've used up all my chances. Every last one of them,'_

_Hermione finally gave up. The rest of his face and body had been sufficiently healed, but his nose and jaw line would never be the same again. The bridge of his nose was dented and its overall shape could be considered aristocratic no longer. It was crooked and also wider than it used to be. However, it was good that he didn't look like a porcelain doll anymore. He seemed a little more human— fragile, flawed and imperfect on the outside and the inside. Just like everyone else._

_'Oh, for goodness sakes. If you're going to just lie there day after day feeling sorry for yourself then you might as well just go ahead and die. You're quite useless to anyone and you're not going to find out one way or another about your parents like this,' Hermione scolded him._

_'My parents,' Draco slowly opened his eyes._

_'Don't you want to know?' she implored. 'Isn't it just better to know?'_

_He sighed heavily. 'It's probably too late,'_

_'You don't know that. Nobody knows. But, it will be your fault if there's something you can do about it and you just sit here on your arse wasting away instead,'_

_'Why don't you hate me?' he asked curiously. This was a question that finally seemed to interest him. 'You should,'_

_Hermione shrugged, 'None of it matters very much anymore, does it? The stupid games children play for the sake of popularity.'_

_Draco thought for a long moment. When Hermione rose to leave, he spoke again, 'Why do you do it? You put yourself at risk knowing that you could die?'_

_'You make a choice, Malfoy,' she looked down at him. 'I choose to help Harry and whatever that requires. I can't think any further than that,'_

_After that day, Draco poured all his time into the books in the vast library at Grimmauld Place. The Order left him alone when they found out he was only reading books about protection spells. He had no wand to practice any spells with, but if he wanted to find a way to save his parents, they could not deny him._

_He only person he seemed to tolerate was Hermione so she was told to keep a wary eye. Only a year earlier, such a situation would have been unthinkable. She talked often while he said little but smiled on rare occasion._

-=-=-=-=-=-

'Mummy, can we go yet? I still need to go to Ollivanders,'

I look away from the Manor into my young son's sparkling blue eyes. They're full of life and promise. Thankfully, he will never have to know, firsthand, the atrocities committed in the name of one warped degenerate. What he will know will be learnt from textbooks censored by some well-meaning committee.

'Of course, my darling,' I give him a peck on the cheek and smile as he begins walking to the Apparation point while checking his list for his first year at Hogwarts for the umpteenth time.

Lucky for me, my son is still at an age when showing affection to him doesn't make him wrinkle his nose. He doesn't yet shy away from my embrace for fear of his reputation amongst his friends.

Sometimes, when I think about the past, I wonder how it all started. I realize it was school, of course. Everything came about in some sort of shape or form because of Hogwarts. We wouldn't have met the people that would change our lives for the better or worse. Harry Potter would never have met Ronald Weasley and the two of them would never have saved a bushy-haired, buck-toothed girl from a mountain troll in a bathroom. Together, they would have never met the greatest wizard that ever lived who taught and inspired them to be great themselves. And, Draco Malfoy wouldn't have been tested and sent down a path to find himself in spite of his upbringing.

It wasn't your birth, your House, or your allegiances that made you or saved you in the end. It made no difference at all when you were fighting such a malevolent creature. Its mere presence was an abhorrence to all that was good and kind. I saw that. I made my choice. It was not as difficult as I once thought it might be to make. And, neither was it for him. Though, it cost him dearly.

I turn again to the Manor reminiscing and imagining what might have been. I try to imagine what would have happened if I had married Draco. Would it be our child that we were now buying school supplies for? I know that a part of me will always love him, but if I had to do it all again, I know that this is still where I would've ended up or perhaps, worse. I might not have come out of it all with such a loving and forgiving family.

'Sweetheart? Are you okay?' my dearest husband asks me. 'Should we have flooed instead?'

I'm caught up in my thoughts and takes me a few moments before I can answer him.

Ah yes, for Draco-- it was inevitable that this is where he would have ended up as well. Because somewhere along the way, he fell in love with _her_. It wasn't planned but perhaps, he had always had some feelings towards her-- even back in our early years when he treated her so cruelly. I'm not sure. He stopped talking about it years ago. I found out then, through all his preciously kept memories, that he never loved me the way I loved him.

-=-=-=-=-=-

_'Draco!' Lucius Malfoy ran through the crowd. He grasped his son by the shoulders and shook him vigorously. It was as if he needed to make sure he was real and not a figment of his imagination._

_The mass of people was too shocked to notice anything other than Harry's miraculous recovery from death. He was now standing face to face against Voldemort._

_'Father,' Draco breathed a sigh of relief. He was still alive although it looked like he had aged twenty years since he'd last seen him. 'Where is Mother?'_

_Lucius' face crumpled with grief, 'She's gone. The Dark Lord ordered your Aunt to kill her,'_

_'Bellatrix,' Draco growled as he bit back a howl of pain that threatened to escape him._

_He looked behind his father to see her body spread lifelessly on the floor not fifteen feet away, but he wished she was alive just so he could kill her again._

_'We should leave now,' Lucius began pulling his son to the nearest exit. 'Quietly, before anything else happens. It doesn't matter who wins, we still lose!'_

_'NO!' Draco shouted._

_'My, my. What do we have here?' Voldemort's attention was momentarily diverted from Harry. 'A family reunion? How touching,'_

_Voldemort snaked closer towards the younger Malfoy as Harry circled to counter his movements. This diversion would give him a few minutes to gather his wits. It would all be over very soon._

_'The Malfoys have been such a terrible disappointment to me,' he feigned hurt and raised his wand. 'I really expected much more out of you and your son, Lucius.'_

_The sight of the pale demon that he had once bowed down to nearly made him sick. He thought of his wife dead at his feet, her unseeing eyes still wide with horror. He had not been permitted to lay her to rest for days. He had also believed his only son to be dead. Lucius would protect him if it was the last thing he ever did right._

_The elder Malfoy moved in front of his son and raised his wand as well. He knew Harry's spell of protection would not have extended to them._

_'Father, please!' Draco pleaded as fear knotted in his gut. He felt Lucius reach behind himself to grasp his arm and squeezed it firmly. 'Let's go. We can get away,'_

_A hideous laughter permeated the room. The students quickly backed away expanding the circular battle ground they formed._

_'AVADA KEDAVRA!' Lucius bellowed as the laughter grew louder._

_Several things happened at once-- Voldemort moved like lightning and dodged the streak of green. Nearly too late, Draco realized that the spell was moving beyond its target into the perimeter of students behind them. Almost in slow motion, he saw the shock register on the face of the one person he had come to trust._

_Without a second thought, Draco lunged forward with the wand he had been given for protection when he returned to Hogwarts with the Order._

_'PROTEGO SAECULORUM!'_

_'AVADA KEDAVRA!'_

_The room was suddenly ablaze with blasts of green and white light._

_'Hermione!' Ron screamed as she fell to the floor. Professor McGonagall pulled him backwards quickly to stop him from touching her when she saw the green glow surrounding her fallen Gryffindor. _

_'Father!' Draco caught him in his arms as they sagged to the ground together. Lucius lifted his hand for a moment, perhaps to touch the face of his beloved son, before it dropped like a stone. 'Oh no! Please. You can't—'_

_Harry rushed forward seizing the opportunity to catch Voldemort off guard. His didn't have the luxury of mourning his best friends just yet. He gritted his teeth and swallowed his emotions._

_'Before you try to kill anyone else, I'd advise you to think about what you've done… think, and try for some remorse Riddle…'_

_'What is this?'_

_Of all the things that Harry had said to him, beyond any revelation or taunt, nothing had shocked Voldemort like this. Harry saw his white pupils contract to thin slits, saw the skin around his eyes whiten._

_'It's your one last chance,' said Harry, 'it's all you've got left… I've seen what you'll be otherwise… be a man… try… try for some remorse…'_

_'You dare --?' said Voldemort again._

_'Yes, I dare,' said Harry, 'because Dumbledore's last plan hasn't backfired on me at all. It's backfired on your Riddle.'_

_Voldemort's hand was trembling on the Elder Wand and Harry gripped Draco's very tightly. The moment, he knew, was seconds away._

_'That wand still isn't working properly for you, because you murdered the wrong person. Severus Snape was never the true master of the Elder Wand. He never defeated Dumbledore.'_

_'He killed--,'_

_'Aren't you listening? Snape never beat Dumbledore! Dumbledore's death was planned between them! Dumbledore intended to die undefeated, the wand's true master! If all had gone as planned, the wand's power would have died with him, because it had never been won from him!'_

_'But then, Potter, Dumbledore as good as gave me that wand!' Voldemort's voice shook with malicious pleasure. 'I stole the wand from its last master's tomb! I removed it against its last master's wishes! Its power is mine!'_

_'You still don't get it, Riddle, do you? Possessing the wand isn't enough! Holding it, using it, doesn't make it really yours. Didn't you listen to Ollivander? The wand chooses the wizard… the Elder Wand recognized a new master before Dumbledore dies, someone who never even laid a hand on it. The new master removed the wand from Dumbledore against his will, never realizing exactly what he had done, or that the world's most dangerous wand had given him its allegiance…'_

_Voldemort's chest rose and fell rapidly, and Harry could feel the curse coming, feel it building up inside the wand pointed at his face._

_'The true master of the Elder Wand was Draco Malfoy,'_

_Blank shock showed on Voldemort's face for a moment, but then it was gone._

_'But what does it matter?' he said softly. 'Even if you are right, Potter, it makes no different to you and me. You no longer have the phoenix wand: we duel on skill alone… and after I have killed you, I can attend to Draco Malfoy…'_

_'But you're too late,' said Harry. 'You've missed your chance. I got here first. I overpowered Draco weeks ago. I took his wand from him.'_

_Harry twitched the hawthorn wand, and he felt the eyes of everyone in the Hall upon it._

_'So it all comes down to this, doesn't it?' whispered Harry. 'Does the wand in your hand know its last master was Disarmed? Because if it does… I am the true master of the Elder Wand.'_

_A red-gold glow burst suddenly across the enchanted sky above them, as an edge of dazzling sun appeared over the sill of the nearest window. The light hit both of their faces at the same time, so that Voldemort's was suddenly a flaming blur. Harry heard the high voice shriek as he, too, yelled his best hope to the heavens, pointing Draco's wand:_

_'AVADA KEDAVRA!'_

_'EXPELLIARMUS!'_

-=-=-=-=-=-

And so, she sleeps.

She lies frozen and untouched by the ages protected by a spell that will last for all time. He sits by her side with his books and research trying to find a cure even though the best wizards and healers have no hope.

But, he won't take 'no' for an answer. Because, he said, if he was able to cast the spell that he did; then, there must also be a way to reverse the worst of all the Unforgivables.

She'll sleep until he finds a cure for the Avada Kedavra. He'll find a way to banish the iridescent, green mist hovering ominously above her like a living shroud. With nearly unlimited resources, he's travelled the world over looking for obscure magical texts and ancient manuscripts. He searches for answers and any hints or clues that might to help create the spell to bring her back.

He won't rest until she wakes-- until he's had his second chance.

Why?

Because, he never told her he loved her. He never had the chance to tell her that he remembers every single time she'd ever smiled at him. Or, that he lived to hear the sound of her voice which held no malice or that her forgiveness meant more to him than all his riches and power ever could.

'Pansy?'

'Yes, Love. I'm ready to go now,' I take my husband's hand and we walk towards our son. He has my smile, but also his father's freckles and unmistakable hair.

'I love you, you know?' he says as he glances over his shoulder at the Manor. Sadness clouds his eyes for a moment as he, too, remembers the Gryffindor in eternal slumber and the hopeful Slytherin within its walls.

I do not know what has become of Draco Malfoy. He used to tell me tales of an immensely powerful spell and a potion so complex and so dangerous to brew. The efforts required to gather the potion's rare ingredients are perilous at best. There is a very special flower that blooms once a decade in the dead of winter on top of an impossible peak. But, we shall see.

'I know. And, I love that you tell me every day,' I place a tender kiss on his lips and pat his arm gently.

'Where there is love, there is hope.'

* * *

Reviews are appreciated!

Saeculorum = eternity, for the ages

REQUEST

For Ruafair  
Would you prefer an art or fic gift? Fic please  
Describe your ideal gift in as few words as possible (plus rating): Something the deals with second chances and hope, and has Lucius and Narcissa in it. Any rating is fine.  
Dealbreakers (absolute no-no's): Non-con, anything Deathly Hallows epilogue related LOL


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